The Girl With The Apples
by thetimelordthatwasonfire
Summary: A story from the perspective of Thresh at the feast. My opinion of Thresh's relationship with Rue.
1. A strange sense of belonging

I listen to a conversation between Cato and Clove, sharpening my rock as I do. I sigh, soundlessly. This stupid rock is the only weapon I have. I have ashamed myself, a contestant as strong as me should have a wealth of weapons at hand by this stage in the games. A good knife or sword could go a long way right now. I could barge in and kill these two in that clearing whenever I felt like it, as long as I had the element of surprise. Instead, I sit and wait for nightfall, when I can kill them in their sleep.

I hear Clove announce that she wants to attempt to get some rest, and watch her head off into the forest. They must have a camp in there. I wonder whether now is my chance. The sun's still up, but with only one of them present, I could run in behind Cato, kill him and then run away before Clove emerges again. On the other hand, I could scout out their camp, kill Clove in her sleep and head back for Cato. That sounds like the better plan.

Just as I get to my feet, I hear the trumpets. Claudius announces that something we all desperately need is waiting for us at the cornucopia, in a marked backpack. A weapon, I hope. I consider rushing in instantly to get to my place near the clearing, but decide to spend the night where I am. I hear Clove and Cato plan out an attack. She'll go for the pack and he'll stay, waiting in the wings. My plan is ruined, as Cato and Clove spend the night together, meaning neither of them can be cornered.

I don't sleep that night. Instead, I sit up considering what my backpack could contain. A weapon was my initial idea, but I reconsider that. The Capitol must be enjoying watching a contestant with the only means of defence being a rock and brute strength. I decide a weapon would be irrelevant. After all, I am by far the strongest in the arena

Once the sun starts to rise, I head for the cornucopia. This is it, I think. As I reach the clearing, I notice that nothing is happening. I sit and wait, and eventually a small table rises from the ground, with four backpacks on top, varying in size. The one marked eleven is one of the larger ones, which could only be a good sign, right?

As soon as the hole closes up beneath the table, I spot the small district five girl dart to the table, and rush back toward the trees. An admiration for her cunning strikes me, but I immediately brush it off. I sit and wait, wondering whether or not to run, when I spot another figure enter the clearing, the Fire Girl. She sprints for the table and grabs her pack just as a knife flies through the air towards her. She fires an arrow in my direction and I duck instincively, but then realise she is firing at Clove, who must be about ten metres to my left. I hear Clove yelp. Another knife flies and this time the Fire Girl staggers back, her face flooding with red, and then Clove is on top of her.

They look like easy prey. Both are facing away from me, and are too engaged in their brawl to notice me at the edge of the clearing. Then I hear something I recognise. Clove is talking about Rue, saying her name like you would say the name of the school idiot. A growl escapes my lips.

Rue was always my friend, back in district 11. We used to work together in the orchard, and would pass each other most days, when checking in. For some reason, she always seemed to gain respect from every person known to her in our district. She was a friend to all. Some adults even seemed to want to get attention from her, in an almost childlike manner. Grown men would pass her an apple at lunchtime, priding themselves on picking the best one for her. Women would invite her to sit with them, or carefully braid her hair. It wasn't that they loved her, simply that she was like a child to them.

To me, she was curious. She was six years younger than me, yet seeing her always provoked a sense of comfort, of belonging. It was as if, in another world where we were both the same age, she would be a love interest of mine. Despite this, I never had a proper conversation with her, until the Games that is, only the occasional "Hello", or "Good Night". I always wanted to talk to her, but knew to keep my distance, preventing myself from any more confusion.

Clove was saying something about the other girl being Rue's ally. Seeing someone pay such little respect to her provokes a fury in me, and the next thing I know I am dangling Clove in the air. I throw her to the ground, and she yelps again. "_You kill her?" _I shout. My actions confuse me, but I know that, for some reason, Rue must be avenged.

I don't hear Clove's answer. All I hear is her screaming and realise she is looking in horror at my right hand. I remember the rock. It makes contact with her temple, and she falls to the floor. Another one down, and I am starting to get fed up. Now for The Fire Girl. As I turn to her I see the terror in her eyes. Terror that somehow, even amidst the horror of The Hunger Games, looks too innocent to kill a young girl such as Rue. I vaguely remember this girl volunteering for her own sister, a girl just as young.

_"What'd she mean? About Rude being your ally?" _I shout. And she tells me. About teaming up, burying Rue in the flowers, singing her to sleep. About the bread. And all the while, I see a distant glint in her eyes, and I recognise it to be the same glint as in the eyes of the men at the orchard with the apples, the same as in the eyes of the women skilfully braiding Rue's hair.

The girl's story overwhelms me. I feel pride for Rue, respect for the girl, but at the same time I feel hurt, anguish, and a strange emptiness inside of me. It suddenly dawns on me that I will never see Rue again. Then I feel anger at the Hunger Games, an anger that I know would be sympathised with by The Fire Girl.

"_Do it fast, Ok Thresh?"_ The girl says.

No. Not this once.

.


	2. The Name of the Fire Girl

I fly through the trees, knowing that Cato will surely be after me. He's probably discovered my camp by now, so close to his.

As I run, my mind wanders back to my encounter with The Fire Girl. I wish I knew her name. I think again of the glint in her eye. Why should she feel so strongly about Rue? This puzzles me, until I remember her sister. I come to the assumption that she treated Rue like a little sister, used her to fill the hole her real sibling used to fill. A strange emotion fills me. I want to cry, but quickly dismiss it.

I am heading towards the fields, where I have spent most of my time during the Games, apart from when I was stalking Cato and Clove. Down there I have crops to eat, and reasonable shelter. It surprises me that no one else has decided to camp here too. As I reach the fields, I am careful not to trample any crops, and give away my route. I head directly forwards, to where the crop turns from a milky yellow colour to a more rusty brown. Once the crop around me is all brown, I turn right, head on for about a mile and then reach my place of rest.

I have made a little clearing in the crop, big enough to fit me, as well as some food supplies, consisting of three groosling legs, a bottle of water, some nuts and a large pile of berries. I have woven a small blanket from the crops around me, which I wrap around me at night to keep me warm. I sit down on the blanket and reach for a groosling leg. Five minutes later, I have eaten all three of the groosling legs and most of the berries. Cursing myself, I decide to go hunt, when I remember the backpack. How could I have forgotten it?

I swing the pack off my shoulders, and look at it. It is large and black, but quite light for its size. I shake it, and hear something shake inside. Hoping for a weapon, I slowly pull the zip, and reach inside. My hands touch something cold, almost like a metal mesh. My heart sinks, no weapon. I reflect upon my earlier thought that the Gamemakers might be enjoying the fact my only useful defence is a rock.

I pull out the object, and inspect it. At first I think it is some sort of chain-link pillow, but then I realise it is a very thin type of body armour. It is made with very tightly woven metal links, creating pretty much full protection to the upper body. I slip it on, and it fits perfectly. The Gamemakers must have got my measurements from my stylist. Although it is no weapon, it will still provide protection to me from the other tributes. I realise that the Fire Girl is probably the tribute most intended for my armour to protect me from. I feel a strong irritation at the Gamemakers. They could easily have given me a spear in that pack, a knife, any useful weapon. Instead they give me something that isn't really what I desperately need. A compromise, but not even that. The Gamemakers never think of anyone but themselves.

I decide that I need to hunt, to at least find some more groosling. I stand up, and head toward the forest again. I decide to go toward the left of the forest where I am sure the trees are mostly evergreen, and I will be supplied with more shelter than…Wait. The word evergreen seems to stir something within me, a recognition, an answer. Everdeen. Yes! The last name of the Fire Girl. Everdeen. I try to conjure up a memory of her first name, but nothing comes to me.

As I reach the trees, I hear a screech and footfalls nearby. Cato. I throw myself to the ground, amongst the long grass. He must have hunted something. Sure enough, I see him stumble from inside the forest, with a small animal in hand. My breath catches. It's a mockingjay.

How did he catch one? They live so high up in the trees, so far from view. How? The only solution I can think of is that the bird was already injured, and on the ground. Cato has no sufficient training with weapons, and catching a mockingjay would be difficult for any experienced huntsmen. I go to wipe sweat from my face, but then I realise it is tears. The sight of the mockingjay has hurt me, deep inside. It seems to symbolise Rue. Suddenly I want to get away, as far as possible from Cato and his kill. Once I see Cato head back into the forest, I stand up, and run back to my camp.

After about five minutes, I realise that I am being followed. However, I keep running, desperate to show no submission, no recognition of Cato. I know that it must be him, only he would have such heavy footfalls. I reach the brown crop, and turn right. I wonder why Cato hasn't killed me yet. If he still has his spear he could easily have me face down and out cold by now. It crosses my mind that he wants to hold out until we reach my camp. So that after I'm out of the way, he can take his pick of my possessions.

I turn left. Into the unknown. This is unmarked territory, unknown turf. I keep running. Maybe Cato will get bored, head back to the forest, but after fifteen more minutes of running I realise this is not the case. I can hear his heavy breathing now, and know he must realise I am aware of him. I decide to end this once and for all. For Rue, For the mockingjay. Thinking of that bird seems to bring something to the surface. Katniss. The name of the fire Girl.

I stop, and turn towards the enemy.


End file.
